


Boundaries

by Slenderlock



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bruce Is a Good Bro, But Tony is also wonderful, M/M, Oral Sex, Poor Bucky, Specifically issues regarding boundaries, Steve is understanding, Tony No, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony is an ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1461958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slenderlock/pseuds/Slenderlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has regained his memories and is on a trial run with the rest of the Avengers. Most of them live in the Stark Tower now, which is both good and bad. Good, in that they can all keep an eye on each other, but bad, in that by living in the Stark Tower, it means they are exposed to, well, Tony Stark. Bucky learns this the hard way when Stark designs him a new arm. </p><p>Tony doesn't stick to the blueprints.</p><p>[Now revised, with a few minor changes]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boundaries

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Zoe.

The first time he notices something’s wrong is a mere three days after the operation.

Tony had been more than willing to design a new arm for Bucky, to “replace that heap of scrap metal”. Bucky had been hesitant at first, but after Tony’s assurance that it would be perfectly safe and he’d emerge from the surgery healthy as a horse (a phrase neither Bucky nor Steve understood), Bucky had relented. A few weeks of planning and Tony had a design prepared, tailored to Bucky’s satisfaction. The old arm had been connected to his nervous system, of course, so had been able to move it properly as if it were a real limb, but Tony’s version is more technologically advanced. It’s less of a super-arm and more of a near-exact replica of a real arm. Bucky had insisted on the strength factor being removed.

_“You sure you don’t want, like, lasers built in? Come on, laser fingers. That would be awesome.” Tony had gushed._

_“Look, I told you. Just- just make it like an arm. Regular fingers that do regular finger… things.”_

_“Fingering?” Tony retorted, grinning widely. “How about this, I’ll-“_

_“No,” Bucky said, stopping Tony in his tracks. “Just… normal.”_

_“Fine.” Tony snorted. “Killjoy. I swear you’re as bad as Cap, sometimes.”_

Bucky opens the fridge and pulls out the carton of mango-orange juice. The future has juice with two fruits in it. The future is weird. He’s uncapping the carton when Natasha walks into the kitchen. She says nothing, as he expects. They aren’t exactly on speaking terms. She understands what it’s like to have a bad reputation, especially now. Stark’s tower is relatively safe, and most of them have been using it as a sort of base.

He fixes his glass of juice in silence as she pulls out a loaf of bread. A few side glances are allowed. Bucky opens the fridge and-

“Stop.”

He freezes, looking over at her, the juice container hovering in the air, clutched in his fingers- not the real fingers, the ones that look like they’re real but they’re not but they _look like they’re real._

“Um,” Bucky says.

Natasha steps closer and seems to be looking at his arm- at his elbow. Her lips twist into the closest thing to a smile Bucky has seen since reconciliating with this crowd. It’s not a very good feeling.

“What?” he asks. “What’s wrong? Is something wrong?”

Natasha makes a ‘tsk’ sound and returns to her loaf of bread. Bucky puts the juice away, not willing to risk asking her what it was she was looking at.

He goes to Banner, who seems- ironically- to be the most mild mannered of the bunch. He is open and accepting, and more than willing to talk. They both know what it’s like to do things without control, and to regret things they’d done without choice.

“Banner?”

“Bruce, please,” the man says, leaning up from his table. Bucky doesn’t ask what the pages of equations mean.

“Bruce. Right.” The name doesn’t fit quite right. Bucky decides to stick with ‘Banner’. “Um, can you tell me something?”

Banner looks a little uncertain, but nods, chair spinning around to face Bucky. Bucky steps forward, pulls his sweater sleeve down, and bears the back of his arm.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, knowing it sounds ridiculous.

“Wrong?” Banner repeats. “I doubt it, Tony’s designs are usually meticulous-” Banner stops, eyes trained on Bucky’s elbow.

“What? What is it?” Bucky asks, because Natasha could have been bluffing but there’s no way Banner is.

“Well,” Banner says, and he looks vaguely uncomfortable. “It- it’d be easier to just show you. Here.” Banner pulls out his phone, presses a button while pointing it towards Bucky’s elbow, and turns it to Bucky’s face. Oh, right, phones take pictures now. Bucky takes the phone and squints at the photo.

It is there, barely recognizable, but there. It looks like some sort of scar on his elbow, but distinguishable in the flesh colored silicone are the words-

“’I’m gay for Steve’?” Bucky reads, eyebrows pressed together in a squint. “Wh- did Stark program the thing to say that?” he demands.

Banner shrugs, and though his face remains in a neutral smile Bucky can tell he is holding back laughter. “It seems like something Tony would do. The silicone would be easy enough to replace, though, if it bothers you. I didn’t notice it until you told me to look,” he adds, when he sees Bucky’s fury begin to rise.

“Right,” Bucky growls. There is no way- _no way_ -he is _ever_ letting Stark have the upper hand here. Stark wants him to be embarrassed, so be it. But this- this is nothing. Bucky grits his teeth. “Thank you, Banner,” he says.

“Bruce,” comes the correction, as Bucky stalks out of the laboratory. The moment he turns the corner he hears hysterical laughter following him.

o0O0o

The second time is when he and Steve finally give in to the inevitable and accept Tony’s offer of the double bed. Bucky is nervous. Steve is gentle. Easy for him, Bucky thinks. He looks like, well, Captain America. Even after a haircut and a shave, Bucky still doesn’t have the god damn cheekbones Steve seems to be blessed with.

“Just calm down,” Steve tells him, a small smile staying on his lips. “I promise. It’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to hurt-”

“I know you don’t. And I trust you, Bucky. I always trusted you. And I always will. You’re not going to hurt me, I promise.”

“How can you promise that?”

Steve sighs. “Bucky, I mean it. I trust you.”

Bucky kisses him then, desperately and fiercely, and Steve can’t do anything else but pull him closer, until they are tangled together in the bed, blanket bunched down at the bottom. Bucky pulls away after a while and looks Steve in the eyes. “I don’t think I want… yet,” he says, and he can’t believe that he’s this nervous- it’s just sex, after all. Nothing he hasn’t done before. Except it is something he hasn’t done before, he’s never wanted anything real out of it. “But I want you- I want to make you happy.”

Steve seems to understand. “You don’t have to feel obligated to do it, you know,” he warns.

“I know,” Bucky says, and it feels like a formality. They both know what he means. “I want to.”

Steve nods. Their jeans land in a combined clump on the floor, next to their shirts. Bucky kisses him, kisses his neck, his collarbone, his chest. Every inch of Steve- good god, the serum did justice to more than just his abs- he worshiped, taking his time.

“God, Bucky,” Steve murmurs, and fingers trail in his hair. Bucky smiles against his stomach and blows a raspberry. “Jesus- you-” Steve’s hands pull back as he laughs, and Bucky laughs alongside him. “I hate you.”

  
Bucky snorts, and continues on, sliding his hand- not his real hand- down until Steve jolts underneath him. “Yes?” he asks.

“God, yes,” Steve gasps.

Bucky removes the last layer separating them- he keeps his own on, just because he needs to, and of course Steve doesn’t ask anything else of him- and, his real hand on Steve’s chest, still caressing as much as it can- strokes him, once, uncertainly. Steve gives a sigh that is definitely happy, going by the level of shakiness, and Bucky does it again.

“Go on, more,” Steve instructs. “I trust you, Bucky, don’t worry.”

Bucky nods, and closes his fingers into a loose fist around Steve’s cock. A few more strokes and Steve is slick. Bucky pulls his hand away and inspects the clear fluid now coating his fingers. He hears Steve laughing softly and the last traces of nervousness vanish. He slides his hand back down around Steve’s cock and strokes him twice more before trailing his fingers down.

“Bucky-”

“Let me,” Bucky pleads. “Let me do this?”

“Yes,” Steve says, “Yes, Bucky, fuck.”

It's not the first time he's heard Steve swear, Bucky thinks, but he still can’t imagine anything else sexier. He trails one slick finger around Steve’s rim, prodding it gently every so often. After a few seconds, he slides it in, and Steve’s muscles clench around him. Being Steve’s muscles, it actually hurts his finger a little, but he ignores it. He gently swirls his finger around, waiting until Steve is relaxed and open enough for another, and then adds a second finger in with the first.

“Bucky,” Steve murmurs, hands clenching the sheets. Bucky takes his hand- the real one, not the one doing the work- and guides Steve’s hands into his hair. They clench, but they’re careful not to hurt. Steve smiles down at him.

When he’s up to three fingers and taking them well, Bucky begins curling them, looking for Steve’s prostate. He isn’t exactly a biology major, so it takes him a little while, but then-

_“AAH!”_

The cry of alarm is shared between the both of them, as Steve jolts to the sensation of Bucky’s fingers _fucking vibrating inside him._

“Wh- Bucky-“

“I don’t- Steve, I have no idea what’s going on,” Bucky admits, and makes to pull them out. One of Steve’s hands tugs at his hair sharply and he yelps.

“Whatever you- _nnngh_ -do,” Steve pants, _“Don’t stop.”_

 _Jesus Christ,_ he thinks, because having vibrating fingers is more than a little bit disconcerting. He can still move them however he likes, but fuck that is weird. He finds Steve’s prostate again and Steve groans, cock twitching up against Bucky’s chest.

“Bucky- Bucky, _please,_ I-”

Steve comes with a loud groan, shuddering and clenching around Bucky’s fingers, painting both of their chests with white. Bucky thinks to himself that, with a bit of blood and a blueberry smoothie, they’d have the damn American flag, but he doesn’t say anything. He pulls out carefully, aware that his fingers are still fucking vibrating, and trails them over Steve’s come.

Instantly, they fall still.

“What,” Steve manages, between shallow breaths, “the hell was that?”

“I have no fucking idea.”

o0O0o

 _“STARK!”_ he bellows, striding into the main room where Stark is, of course, waiting for him.

“Yes?” Stark asks, and Bucky knows, he just fucking knows what Stark is thinking. He holds up his silicone covered hand and wiggles the fingers in front of Stark’s face.

“What the hell?” Bucky shouts. “What did you do?"

“Oh, just a simple modification,” Stark says, shrugging as if it’s the least interesting thing in the world. “Took a couple of extra readings during Cap’s last physical- honestly, testing for prostate cancer? Please. In any case, once you find that bad boy you’re good to go.” Stark gives him the stupidest grin in the world that, for a reason Bucky can’t quite define, he almost wants to match.

“And when they come into contact with, with…” Bucky trails off.

Stark smirks. “Right on target,” he says, winking. “No after-effects, no loss of motor skills afterwards. Think of it like a present.”

“A present.”

“A ‘Congrats-on-not-being-a-homicidal-maniac’ present,” Stark clarifies.

Bucky stares at him.

“Hope you two can find some use out of that,” is Stark’s last comment, before he sweeps away past the high clearance security doors to his own laboratory, and Bucky is left staring at empty space.

Damn it.

o0O0o

The third time is simultaneously the best and the worst time.

“Bucky, god, yes,” Steve chants, cantering forward. Bucky murmurs something, voice muffled by the pillow underneath his crossed arms. His knees are bent and his ass is up on top of them. With every thrust, he can feel the entire damn bed shake underneath them, and he’s sure that they aren’t the only ones aware of exactly what’s happening right now.

Steve’s hands grasp his waist as he thrusts, as Bucky can do nothing but take. One hand slides down and grasps at Bucky’s cock, holds it gently but firmly, and Bucky can sense just how close Steve is.

“Bucky, I-”

“Yes, yes, Steve,” he pants, turning his head to the side and straining his neck. It’s no use, he can’t look Steve in the eye like this, but he doesn’t care. Steve’s hand slicks up and down, sending Bucky careening towards the edge. Steve slams forward with a shout, and Bucky can feel him coming, and fuck that’s hot. Steve’s hand doesn’t slow down at all and Bucky is close, so damn close, one more stroke-

_O-OH SAY, CAN YOU SEEEEEE? BY THE DAWN’S EARLY LIIIIGHT-_

Bucky comes all over Steve’s hand, collapsing completely down onto the bed.

_WHAT SO PROOOOOUDLY WE HAAAILED, AT THE TWILIGHT’S LAST GLEAMING-_

Bucky freezes as he registers precisely what is happening.

“What.”

_WHOSE BROAD STRIPES AND BRIGHT STAAAARS-_

“The fuck.”

_THROUGH THE PER-I-LOUS FIIIIGHT-_

“Is going on.”

_O’ER THE RAAAMPARTS WE WATCHED-_

“Turn it off.”

_WERE SO GALLANTLY STREAMING-_

“I can’t!”

The music roars to a crescendo. _AND THE ROCKET’S RED GLAAAARE-_

“Why not?”

_THE BOMBS BURSTING IN AAAAIIR-_

“I don’t know how!”

_GAVE PROOOOOF THROUGH THE NIIIIGHT, THAT OUR FLAG WAS STILL THEEERE-_

“It’s _your_ arm.”

_OH, SAY DOES THA-AT STAR SPANGLED-_

“ _I_ didn’t design it!”

_BA-NNER YET WAAAAAAAVE-_

“Yes, you did!”

_O’ER THE LAA-AAND OF THE FREEEEEEEE-_

“Well, _some_ of it.”

_AND THE HOME-_

“…This part?”

_OF THE-_

_“NO!”_

_BRAAAAAAVE._

The song ends, then, and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to play again. They both wait until their breaths match something resembling normal- normal, yes, after Bucky’s god damn arm serenaded them both with the fucking Star Spangled Banner in the middle of his god damn orgasm - before either of them says anything.

“Stark?” Steve guesses, after a few minutes have passed.

“…Yeah.”

Steve kisses his forehead, smiling. “You’ll get used to him.”

“I doubt it.”

“Come on. He’s got some benefits, right?”

“I guess the vibrating fingers aren’t bad,” Bucky teases, turning so they’re front to front. Steve laughs.

Bucky turns the light off, and they sleep.


End file.
